


The Couch Intruder Song

by curiumKingyo



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: AU, Eventual Smut, M/M, Open Relationships, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:30:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2432198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiumKingyo/pseuds/curiumKingyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt and Minho have a deal: when Newt is too drunk to go home he just stays at Minho's.<br/>Except that one night he crawls into the wrong window.</p><p>Also known as Thomas has absolutely no common sense, Teresa and Aris are cats and I am shamelessly giving myself the opportunity to write some funny sexy times for my OT3 (actual porn will begin by chapter 4 or 5...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moral hangover

Minho's head is pounding and for the umteenth time he vows not to drink again. He doesn't know what time it is, but the sun is filling through the gaps in the curtains and his mouth is dry as a desert. He looks at his phone - 10:37 in the morning.

  
Not bad considering the time he got home yesterday. Today, actually. He also sees a badly written message from Newt saying he had found a way into Minho's vouck, which probably means couch. Minho hopes it means couch.

  
It has become a tradition. Everytime Newt is too drunk to go home he takes refugee in Minho's place. Usually in his couch but not rarely in his bed as well.

  
He groans and tosses his shoe against the door, dramatically opening it and moans Newt's name in the most annoying voice he can muster. As his call goes unanswered he forces himself out of bed.

  
He trips in his discarted clothes and curses loudly as he enters the living room. "Isaac New..." He begins to call but stops when sees his couch completely empty. With a raised eyebrow he trots to the bathroom, that is empty as well.

  
Fighting a growing sense of dread he dashes to the kitchen and finds only used dishes waiting for him. Calling out for his best friend and occasionall fuck buddy he goes to the bathroom once more and checks inside the shower stool just to be sure. Just to find it empty too.

  
He stands in the middle of the room looking quite lost and worried. The front door is locked and the keys are thrown in the floor near his crumpled shirt so there is no way Newt had left earlier. Suddenly, he remembers that Newt hadn't come home with him, which means he couldn't have used the door anyway. His eyes turn to the window and he sprints down the room to check it.

  
Locked.

  
He usually leaves it open since he lives in the second floor but a storm few days earlier made him close it and he forgot to unlock it again. The easy conclusion he reaches is that Newt had never been to his place that night.

  
Yet, he is sure Newt had sent a message around 5 in the morning telling him he was in the couch. He reaches for his phone and reads the message again just to make sure he isn't hallucinating. He isn't. At 4:51 in the morning Newt had claimed to be in the vouck.

  
Minho begins to consider if vouck does mean couch after all.

  
He decides to call Newt and find out where he is. If he is still asleep and with a major hangover, even better. Serves him right for all the worry he put Minho through. Except that the call reaches his voicemail and causes Minho's worry to skyrocket.

  
Worried sick and feeling his hedache turn into a migrane, he slips into a pair of tracking shorts and a hoodie, decided to find Newt as soon as possible. His tumb is flickering through his contact list, searching for someone who could have taken the blond home the previous night - most likely Alby or Gally.

  
He is about to dial Alby's number when he looks up and sees a very familiar foot hanging from the window to the left of his own.

  
"You've gotta be kidding me Newt..." He mutters, shoving his phone back into his hoodie's pocket and rushing upstairs to rescue his friend.


	2. The couch intruder

A weird sound wakes Thomas up. He groans and look at the bedside table, the clock reads 4:48 in the morning; which means he had had barely 2 hours of sleep that night. "Teresa, that better be you!" he yells and simply goes back to sleep. He is bone deep tired, having just finished a 12 hour shift at the hospital. _Doctors have it easy,_ he complains, _nurses do the hard work_. He deserves to sleep and if Teresa decided that's a good moment to dance the rumba in the living room he will gladly let her have her way.

Hours late, he is completely refreshed. Except for the rumba-dancing noise near 5 am, he had a full night - morning - of deep sleep. He feels mostly lazy now, not used to lying for so long anymore. His peace doesn't last long however, because a fluffy tail shows over the edge of the mattres only a second before an entire fluffy cat climbs onto his chest.

Thomas pets Aris' brown and orange fur. Aris allows it for a moment only before meowing loudly into his owner's ear. "Ok, ok, got it..." Thomas murmurs picking the cat up and walking with him down the hallway. He is feeling decidely light and happy - and kinda hungry. But mostly happy. Aris is purring loudly and his tail keeps swating Thomas' leg and the man can't help but to wish Teresa was this affectionate too.

"Teresa!" He calls her, puting Aris down in order to search for the bag of cat food. A really loud meowing sound calls his attention, since it is so rare for Teresa to make noise, he looks around to find her staring at him from her sitting spot. Over a guy's butt. A completely unknown, completely unmoving, completely passed out guy sprawled over his couch. Thomas's first instinct is to scream and throw the cat food bag at him but he doesn't want to hurt Teresa and she looks extremely content sitting over the invader.

As he stares in disbelief, Aris decides to try the new adition to the couch. He lands over the guy's back and walks a full circle there before sitting and looking at Teresa as if commenting on how fucking confortable that new pillow is. "Teresa! Aris!" Thomas calls in distress, but all the cats do is look back at him in a condenscending way only cats do. As if to prove he is worrying needlesly, Teresa yawns openly, arching her black and white body and pressing her sharp nails into the unknown guy.

Thomas' eyes bulge but the other man doesn't even stir. _Oh god, he's dead!_  he screams inwardly, shooing the cats away and pressing careful fingers at the man's neck. He feels a steady pulse thrum under the warm skin. So, totally _alive,_ he thinks relieved. The guy's breath smell of tequilas and chewing gum. Thomas stands back up and carefully studies the sleeping stranger. He seems about Thomas' age and is probably taller than him, it is difficult to say with the amazing contortionism he is doing in his sleep, but he occupies the whole couch and his foot is dangling off the window. He has beautiful blond hair and his mouth is smashed against the arm rest, a dark spot forming underneath his half opened lips. He actually looks really cute...

He also doesn't seem harmful. Thomas' nurse instinct kicks in and he analyses the man more closely. There are no injuries visible, no cuts or bruises in his arms, face or down the patch of neck and chest Thomas can see down the unbutoned collar of his shirt. His nails are short and neat, and he is clean despite the smell of alcohol. It doesn't look like he got into a bar fight or anything. Thomas makes sure to check his arms for signs of pinpricks and is glad to find none.

It is almost 11 in the morning and Thomas is sure the noise he heard at 5 am was this guy entering through the window, which is always open because of the cats.

"Should I wake him up?" He finally asks Teresa and Aris. Both cats ignore his question completely but he is used to this so he just keeps speaking to them. "Maybe I should search for his phone and call someone to pick him up?" He is about to start rummaging through the guy's pockets when the belldoor rings. Insistently.

He crosses the room and looks through the peephole. _Oh no, it is him!_ he thinks, biting his lower lip. Him, the guy next door. The one with painfully cool hair and a killing smile. The one who talked to Thomas like once and waved at him no more than twice. The one Thomas is kinda ashamed to remember the name: Minho. Thomas looks back at the passed out stranger in his couch, and kinda hates his life for a second. Minho rings the bell again and he looks really anxious as Thomas watches him again.

"I'm coming!" Thomas says and immediately wants to kick himself in the nuts. His heart is already fluttering inside his chest at the mere prospect of talking with Minho. What is he supposed to do? Taking a deep breath he runs his fingers through his hair trying to tame it a bit and clears his throat before opening the door just a little.

"Hey! Jonas...?" Minho greets, clearly nervous.

"It is Thomas." He tries not to be offended but it is kinda hard when he had known the other guy's name even before they were properly introduced.

"Yes! Thomas. Sorry man, really sorry." Minho apologises and he does seem sincere, Thomas nods and smiles a bit. "So, uhn... this will sound really weird but, is my friend passed out in your couch?" It looks like it is almost painful to him to ask such a thing. Thomas can't blame him.

"He is your friend?" He lifts his eyebrow, unsure what to make of the situation. He steps aside and opens the door a bit more so Minho can look at his living room.

"Newt!" Thomas is brushed aside as Minho makes his way to the sleeping guy - Newt. "I'm so fucking relieved  but I also want to kinda punch him in the face..." He says, looking over his shoulder at Thomas. "I can imagine it..." Thomas replies. "Do you want to wake him up?"

Minho shakes his head with a faint smile on his lips. "It would be no use. He is a dead weight when hungover." The way he brushes golden hair off Newt's face is almost tender and Thomas fights a wave of jealousy that shouldn't even exist in the first place. Minho kneels beside the couch and carefully picks Newt up, bridal style. The blond babbles something and throw an arm around the other man's shoulders.

"Do you want some help carrying him?" Offers Thomas, trying his best to keep his eyes in Minho's face and not in flexed muscles of his thighs. "Just help me with the doors." Minho says, standing up and effortlessly adjusting his grip on Newt's legs.

Thomas holds his door fully open and steps aside, giving Minho enough space to maneuver Newt's sleeping form out of the apartment. "Open mine too." Minho asks, tilting his head to show his door - as if Thomas hadn't known it already. "The keys are in my pocket."

His hand sinks inside Minho's pocket and he finds a single key pressed against a cell phone. He opens the door as far as it goes and allows Minho in first. He half expects the asian to put the blond in the couch but he just carries Newt down the corridor into one of the doors. _If Minho follows the same layout as me_ , Thomas thinks, _that is the master bedroom..._ He doesn't have much time to mull over Minho's apartment design because the owner of said apartment soon come back.

"Thank you very much!" He says, smiling widely at Thomas. "But seriously man, why didn't you call the police?"

"He didn't seem dangerous?" Thomas replies and it sounds a lot like a question but Minho just snorts. "Are you sure he is okay? I could take a look at him, I'm a nurse."

"A nurse? I didn't expect it." Minho says but it doesn't sound like he is mocking Thomas. "I'm really thankful but it is okay. That slinthead will sleep a little longer and then come moaning and crying about how I let him do this to his life." He shrugs and smiles. Thomas feels his business here is done but he desperately wants to spend a moment more with Minho - who knows when they'll meet again?

"So, anyway, how did he even manage to climb through my window?" He asks, mentally high-fiveing himself for finding a perfectly good reason to stay there a moment longer. "We live in the second floor!"

"He is always climbing up to my place." Minho says and there is an underlying note of sadness in his voice. "He used to be a great climber... So, I really appreciate your help Thomas." He smiles again. "Have a nice weekend!"

Thomas has no more excuses so he smiles back at his neighbour and wishes him a great weekend too. "If you need any help just call me." He says as Minho begins to close the door.

"I will!"

Thomas stays there, looking at the dark wood for maybe a full minute. Suddenly he feels soft paws poking his hand and looks down to find Aris looking up at him with pleading eyes. "Oh man I totally forgot you guys, didn't I?"

Aris follows him home and when they get there Thomas finds Teresa sitting in the couch, exactly where she had been over Newt. Her blue eyes are looking probably right into his soul and he has to turn his back to her. "No Teresa, this is not another crush, ok?"


	3. I, the couch intruder

It used to be easier, Newt is sure it did. Not the climb, the climb is still okay, but the window... That goddamned window! He pushes it again and it simply doesn't budge. _I should have come with Minho_ , he thinks, pressing his face to the glass panel as if it would recognize his features and magically open for him. The sun is begining to rise, orange and purple mixing with the dark colors of the night. Newt pushes again - he definetely don't need to be found sitting at Minho's windowsill by those old ladies from the other building.

He decides to call Minho and ask him to open the bloody door. Leaning against the wall he tries to fish his phone from his back pocket but it just makes him lose balance. Grumbling and cursing he takes a few steps down the narrow cement marquise. He almost falls at least twice so when he finds his balance again he decides against trying to reach his phone again. Sighing, he leans against the window and it just gives in under his weight.

Thankfully he falls face first into the couch. He sprawls over the piece of furniture and groans with satisfaction. _This couch feels so shucking confortable today_ , he thinks. Confortable enough for him to just lay there instead of trying to find his way into Minho's bed. He does, however, send a message to his friend secretly hoping he would come over and carry him to bed. It doesn't happen but he just falls asleep anyway.

Tequila usually gives him bad dreams. Not exactly nightmares, but unpleasant dreams, like being in thight closed spaces or falling without control. Tha night, however, he dreams of rolling around freshly cut grass and blowing dandelion seeds into the wind. He also feels warm, specially on his lower back and butt and in the dream he is lying under the warm july sun.

He is still sleeping but not completely unconscious when he hears and unknown voice. It is a good voice. It is deep and sounds a bit rough, like whoever owns it had just woken up or had a sore throat. Newt likes it, he wants to talk to it but he is not conscious enough so he just goes back to sleep wishing the voice would be there for him when he was to wake up.

Dreams come back over him. Tall walls rise around him as they usually do in nightmares but now that that voice is with him he doesn't get so scared. Suddenly Minho's voice joins the first one. They talk, Newt can't understand their words but he likes how their voices sound together. He wants to join them. _We should totally sing together_ , he thinks in his dream. Then, he feels his body getting weightless and Minho's familiar scent envelops him. He reaches for the other and clumsily hugs his neck.

Minho talks to the voice as they move through whatever place they are moving through. Newt is slightly more conscious but he knows that if he stays quiet and with his eyes closed he will fall back to sleep easily. Perhaps this time with Minho by his side. Perhaps with Minho and the Voice. He sighs happily.

He finally feels himself being carefully deposited on a bed. "Sleep with me..." he moans and Minho snorts.

"I should make you sleep in the floor!" He says but he is taking Newt's shoes and pants off and pulling a blanket over him.

"I want to sleep with the voice." Newt says, burying his face into Minho's pillow.

"The what?" Minho asks, hand already in the door knob. "The voice" Newt repeats. "The one talking to you... good voice..."

He doesn't ever hear Minho leaving the room, but he does feel it when he comes back and slip into the bed with him. "I wanna be the big spoon..."

"No way, you'll stay where I can keep an eye on you." Minho shifts their bodies so that his chest is pressed against Newt's back.

"The voice would let me be the big spoon..." He moans but wiggles back into Minho's broad chest, enjoying the warmth. Minho smiles tenderly at his troublesome friend. Said smile slowly turn malicious as he replays the way Thomas had looked at Newt when he had taken the blond in his arms."I'm sure he would."


	4. Thomas "Totally Not a Stalker" Green

Thomas doesn't want to think about Minho and the couch intruder Newt. He knows it is none of his business. And honestly, he has at least half a dozen more important things to think about.

  
He is totally thinking about Minho and Newt.

  
He keeps remembering the way Minho had carefuly picked Newt up, and the instinctive hug the blond gave him when settled in his arms. He tries to reason why his neighbour would take his sleeping friend to his own room and not to the guest room. And when his thoughts begin to wander down this path he decides it is time for a distraction.

  
He turns the TV on and flops down on the couch to watch it. A cloud of tequila, chewing gum and perfume engulfs him when his body hits the couch. How is it _possible_ , that guy spent barely 6 hours in this couch! It may be Thomas' imagination, but the fact is that he smells it. Alcohol and tutti fruti, and an underlying scent of soap and body spray.

Thomas buries his face in the arm rest and inhales, feeling slighty ashamed of doing so. He wonders what brand of body spray Newt uses and if that smell matches his personality. He wonders what kind of personality he has at all...

Groaning in frustration, the nurse trashes around in the couch until the sound of somerthing hitting the floor makes him stop. He looks down and finds a cell phone lying screen-down over the carpet. He blinks in confusion for a second since that phone doesn't belong to him. When realization dawns on him, he picks the phone up grinning like a maniac.

What a perfect excuse! He tries not to feel like a stalker - and fails a little, but does he like the idea of meeting Newt again. Minho is considerably easier since the share a floor on a small apartment building; but Newt... He is willing to look a bit stalker-y for the chance to at least talk to him a bit.

He presses a button on the bottom of the screen, turning it on. The backgroung picture is a drawing: a boy playing a piano with an aquarium attached to it, there are several gold fishes swimming around as if dancing to the boy's music. It is a beautiful drawing but Thomas is a bit frustrated. What did you want? A selfie as background image? He asks himself. Perhaps a nude, he suplies his own mind.

The fact is that he'd spent the last one and a half hour thinking about those guys and now he has an excuse. He jumps off the couch, causing Aris to look at him with curiosity.

He then spends 15 minutes working on his hair just so it looks like he hadn't worked on it at all. He also tries three jeans and five shirts, in different sets, until Teresa decided to roll over his clothes and leave most of her fur on them. "You could have just said I look fine already..." He mumbles to her and leaves with his excuse in hands.


	5. Is mocking the benefit people talk about?

Minho doesn't really go back to sleep, he just enjoys staying in bed for as long as he can. If his bed happens to be filled with a snoring Newt, he won't complain. He looks down at the back of Newt's neck and blows the fine hairs there just to watch his friend grunt and shiver.

He had always wondered what was it like to have this kind of relationship with someone. What was it like to have a _friend with benefits_. He still doesn't like the name but he goes with it for lack of something better.

The fact is that he truly likes having Newt as something more than a friend, but neither of them are aiming for boyfriendhood anytime soon. According to Hollywood, their relationship had only two options in the future: deep, friendship-wrecking drama, or, marriage. Somehow, he doesn't feel like any of those would be their destiny.

After a while he takes his phone from the bedside table and logs in on Facebook. There is a message from Alby asking if Newt had made it to his place, and one from Brenda with a link to some ideas for their new project. He replies to both and goes into a Candy Crush frenzy that lasts for about 20 minutes - enough time for him to feel like throwing his phone against a wall.

He is considering the pros and cons of getting up when Newt finally turns around and greets him with bleary eyes. "Guhmoning..." he mumbles, hiding his face in the crook of Minho's neck.

"Good morning." He greets, putting his phone aside in order to talk to Newt. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit." He says and Minho isn't sure if he should coo and confort him, or poke and tease him. Well, it wouldn't be Minho if he chose the first one...

After making sure Newt is indeed okay, Minho wastes no time in making the best shit eating grin he could. Seeing his face, Newt cringes and pushes himself away a little. "What?" He demands. "If you feel like shit, I wonder how Tomboy is feeling..." says Minho with a deeply pensive expression.

"Who?" Newt's face shows equal parts of curiosity and dread. "Tomboy! You know, the guy whose couch you spent most of the morning at."

"This your new nickname?" Newt asks, eyebrows furrowed. "Because I'm pretty sure I passed out in your couch and you, gentlemanly, brought me here in the morning."

"Oh Isaac Newton my cute little apple" sighs Minho shaking his head. "In your defense, it was my fault since I left the window locked but, yeah, you broke into my neighbour's place and drooled all over his couch."

"No I didn't!" Newt wants it to be a prank but he knows Minho well enough to see the truth in his face.

"Yes you did, there was even a little puddle there, I saw it." Minho enjoys the panic showing in Newt's face. He snorts and rolls off bed, allowing the blond to roll aside and completely hide himself in the covers and pillows. "So, I'll take a shower now. You stay here and wallow in shame for a little longer." Newt flips him off with his face still buried in the mattress.

Minho just laughs and goes to the bathroom. He stares at his reflection for a while, plays a bit with his hair, brushes his teeth and after a few minutes finally turns on the shower and steps in.

He sings bad 90s songs and makes a list of jokes to make at Newt's expense. It is a long list. After washing and rinsing properly he wraps a towel around his hips and go back to the bedroom. Newt is still hidden in a messy coccoon, only the top of his blond head showing.

"Enough wallowing," he says, pulling the blankets and sheets with a flourishing movement. Newt curls further into a tiny ball but Minho easily untangles him and forces him up. "Seriously now, go shower and we'll go to Fry's for lunch." At the mention of his favorite restsurant, Newt's mood improves a bit.

He limps down the corridor, a hand on the wall and the other shielding his eyes from the light. Minho watches him for a second or so and then begins to dig into the pile of mostly-clean-clothes, searching for his mostly-clean-pants.

The shower is still running when he finishes dressing. He goes to the living room intending on watch some tv while Newt showers but as soon as he gets there the doorbell rings. He opens it without looking at the peephole. Behind the door, Thomas is waiting with a very controled and studied expression of nonchalancy on his face.

"Did I forgot another friend at your place?" Minho asks, leaning on the door frame and smirking.

"No, I only accept one stray a day, sorry." He replies, relaxing his stance visibly. Minho takes a split second to study his neighbour: the crinkles at the corner of his eyes as he smiles and the little beauty marks near his lips. Honestly, Minho is not a bad person but he has his fair share of dirty thoughts in this brief moment.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Thomas doesn't get to answer because at that moment Newt leaves the bathroom, surrounded by a cloud of mist and perfume. "Did you got my phone, Min? I can't find that bloody thing..."

"Is it this one on Thomas' hand?" Minho asks, stepping aside and allowing Thomas to show said phone with a little smile in his face.

Newt's head whips up and Minho doesn't know if the red tint on his cheeks is embarassment or heat from the shower. The asian expects his friend to crumble and flee but in an amazing recovery, Newt rises his chin and tightens the towel around his waist. Minho watches as the blond crosses the room with his characteristic gait.

Thomas offers him the phone, and Minho notices he has dimples. Newt takes the phone with a half smile. "Your couch is pretty confortable." He says, and yes, the red tint is totally a blush, Minho decides.

"The cats never complain, but thanks for the confirmation." Thomas says with a playful wink.

"Couches aside" begins Minho, breaking the odd stare contest begining between the other men, "how do you feel about lunch, Thomas?"


	6. Best intentions (?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Behold the first porn scene on this fic, featuring rutting BFFs and dirty talking :D

"Lunch seems great" Thomas says, shifting his eyes from Newt to Minho. The blond glares a bit at his friend for interrupting their moment but when Thomas agrees to have lunch with them he forgives Minho.

Suddenly, Newt realizes a damp towel is all he is wearing and the blush comes back full force. He stutters an apology and quickly retreats to the bedroom. Much to his chagrin his clothes are completely crumpled and scatered across the entire floor.

He shakes his jeans to straighten them a bit and steals one of Minho's boxer briefs. His shirt is irreparably creased and smelly so he throws it back in the floor and picks one of Minho's as well. The one he choses, white with a wide neck, fits thightly on its owner's buffy frame but it hangs quite loosely on Newt's skinny body. Thomas and Minho are talking in the living room, their voices reaching Newt as he finishes tidying his hair and looking at his reflection in the full body mirror. "That's about as good as it gets..." he says deprecatingly.

Minho leads their way to Frypan's. The dinner only half full since the buzz from lunchtime had already ended. Jeff, the waiter, yells at his boss:

"Fry! Newt and Minho are here!" Turning back to his costumers he smiles. "The usual?" He asks.

"Yes, same old for me and Isaac here," Minho says "I don't know about Thomas though."

To both Newt's and Minho's surprise, Thomas claps Jeff's hand and says "Same as always for me too." The waiter nods and writes their orders on slips of paper which he passes to the kitchen through an opening in the wall.

"Go find a table yourselves," he says, turning the coffee maker on "I don't need to babysit you, right?" They sit at a table by the window, Newt by Minho's side with Thomas right in front of him.

"So, you're a regular at Fry's too?" asks Newt, wipping the table with a napkin. The paper becomes translucent with grease.

"Yeah" Thomas confirms looking at the oily napkin with disgust. "It's the nearest restaurant here."

"I damn hope this ain't the only reason you come here, Green." A new voice says. They all turn to greet the owner and cook, Frypan. He is balancing their meals in extended arms and places them in the table before shaking their hands enthusiastically.

"You wound me Fry, of course this ain't the only reason I come here for." Fry smiles at his words.

"There are your pretty eyes too!" Adds Minho, snickering.

The cook rises his eyebrows, annoyed. "I'd like you so much better if you didn't hang so much with him, Newt." Says Fry, turning to the blond who is shaking salt over his fries. "You should get some new friends."

Newt's eyes meet Thomas'. "I might start hanging with Thomas then." And he watches, mesmerized, as the brunette swallows hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing enticingly. Thomas quickly turns to Fry and Minho, as they keep talking something Newt doesn't pay atention to. He just watches Thomas' face, the way his eyes move subtly to make sure Newt's still looking at him, and how his smile dimples his cheeks.

Eventually Newt joins the chat. Fry goes back to the kitchen after a while and the three men are left alone. They talk about Thomas' work and Minho's new projetcs in the robotics club. As usual, Newt doesn't talk too much, specially about himself.

They eat, talk and laugh loudly. Soon they find many things in common: they like the same books and shows; and Newt is glad to find someone to discuss the merits of the Watchmen movie vs the comics.

"What will you do today?" Newt asks as they leave the restaurant. "Minho and I will have a very adult afternoon with unhealthy amounts of junk food and Mario Kart. Wanna join us?"

"First of all, I already care enough about our budding friendship to let it die in a Mario Kart fuelled carnage." The brunet says in all seriousness. "And I have plans actually."

"Meeting your girlfriend?" Minho asks and once again Newt feels like punching and/or kissing him at the same time.

"Nah..." Thomas actually blushes. "There is this kid whose mom was very good friends with mine, he is a bit of a little brother to me. He asked help with Chemistry."

Newt has to activelly fight the urge to sigh with adoration at how utterly lovely Thomas sounds talking about his sort-of-brother. If the knowing glance Minho shoots him means anything, he probably has failed to hide his infatuation.

Thomas checks his phone. "I should be going, Chuck gets restless if I get late." He bids them well and turns the corner at the opposite direction.

Newt really doesn't realize he is doing so, but it turns out he talks about Thomas the entire way back home. He talks about his looks and how nice he is to help Chuck and how grateful he is that Thomas didn't call the police when he found Newt sleeping in his couch.

"You know what I think?" Minho asks as he opens the door and steps into his apartment. "I think his couch is not what you want to sleep in." Newt looks ofended.

"I don't know where did this idea came from..."

Minho snorts. "Oh, please Newt! I've known you since we were 9, I can read you easier than korean."

"You can't read korean..."

"And honestly, I don't blame you." He looks almost sympathetic. "Seriously, he is hot and super cute. I don't know how I'm not in love with him already..."

Newt crosses his arms defensively and avoids Minho's stare at all costs. "I'm not in love with him!" Since his eyes are downcast he can't see the way Minho studies him for a couple of seconds. The korean's expression shifting from mockery to wicked as he takes it upon himself to make Newt accept and recognize his infatuation for Thomas. If he gets to have some fun while doing so, even better!

"You know what, I'm sorry." He says, stepping closer. Just as he predicted, Newt drops his arms aside. "This is none of my business... No, actually, it is not a business to begin with."

Newt is back to his usual stance, half leaning against the wall, satisfied that Minho had dropped the matter. Only when strong hands land on the wall on each side of his head, is that he realizes he had fallen into Minho's trap.

"But I think he'd look great down on his knees, with lips red and wide around a cock." He slips his thigh between Newt's and looks down at him with malice in his dark eyes. “Don't you think that little moles would look great stretched giving you head?”

Newt's imagination is faster than his common sense. He knows he should be focusing on something like the pile of dirty dishes waiting for him at his place, but his mind is flooded with images of Thomas. Thomas' lips and eyes and the way his back muscles would shift while kneeling in front of him. “Minho...” He half warns, half begs.

Minho smiles widely, Newt's hips rolling lightly against his leg. “I wonder if he looks better than you doing this... I'd love to see it; his lips around you and yours around him. You'd look so good together, you so pale and lanky and he all buffy and tanned...”

A broken sound leaves Newt's throat and he begins to rut shamelessly against Minho. With shaky hands he grips the front of Minho's shirt and hides his face on his neck. The new position allows Minho to whisper directly onto Newt's ear. “You look really affected by him.”

“I'm affected by your words, slinthead!” Newt manages to groan. He feels Minho smiling against his skin.

“Dirty talk had never been your thing, Isaac.” Minho accuses him, but his voice is breathy and light. “I bet your little mind is conjuring his image right now. His skin glistening with sweat, his eyes bright with pleasure...”

Newt taps his shoulder frantically. “Minho... leg!” The dark haired man half carries, half drags him to the couch, and lies there on his back, bringing Newt to lie between his legs. The blond eases in the space, puting his weight on one knee and leaning forward to press his face against Minho's.

They don't kiss, Minho too busy summoning new images, painting them with his words. He had always been really persuasive but Newt had never expected to fall victim to his voice like this. He grinds his hips against Minho's and let little sounds to escape his lips.

He can't deny the hot body under his is enticing and arousing as always, but what really burns inside him is the desire to have Thomas. He doesn't make it a habit to think of other people while doing this, but in his mind images of Thomas share space with Minho. Sometimes it is one or the other, but most of the images feature all three of them.

Minho's words wash over him, he can't even pay attention to them anymore. He just loves the sound of his voice, their names floating in the air like a spell. His hand finds a way to pull both his and Minho's cock off their pants. He wraps a long hand around both of them, thumb teasing his own slit.

It doesn't take much more and he comes, white spilling over his fingers and Thomas' name spilling over his lips. Minho grips his hipbones tightly and thrusts into the hollow of his hips. A few secondes later he comes too, only a muted groan that turns into laughter leaving his mouth.

“What?”

“You're so into him!” There is no accusation or hurt on Minho's voice, only amusement and the familiar satisfaction at being right. “You're moaning his name while comming all over me, that's só inconsiderated...”

Newt groans and his head fall in defeat. “I may be interested in him, okay? Will you leave me in peace now?”

“For the time being.” Minho replies, but he plants a little kiss to Newt's sweaty temple – a gesture of apology. “Now get off me, you may be skinny but is still heavy!”

The blond groans and rolls off the couch. He lands awkwardly and looks at his come stained hand in disgust, he wipes it with his shirt. “Hey! This shirt is mine.” Minho complains.

“You had it coming Minho, take some responsibility” He pulls the shirt off and throws it at Minho, who cringes but uses it to clean his own mess anyway. Newt smiles a bit and gaits to the kitchen.

“Skittles or M&Ms?” He asks, picking a bowl and opening the junk food cabinet.

“Surprise me!” Minho yells from the living room.

Newt smiles and pours both Skittles and M&Ms into the bowl.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more of stalker!Thomas because it is funny and hopefully cute.
> 
> Also, it was meant to be a sort of plotless porny fic but it turns out it'll be long and probably painful and sad and complicated. But it will end well, I promisse.  
> I'm 100% happy endings :D

"You're late!" Accuses Chuck as soon as Thomas shows up the street.

  
"I had to stop on the way to get this." Says Thomas, throwing a chocolate bar to the younger boy. Chuck frowns.

  
"You can't bribe me with candy everytime, Thomas..." His eyes shift from the chocolate to his chubby belly. Thomas purses his lips.

  
"I'm not bribing you, this is study material." He says, climbing the entry steps and holding the door opened. "You'll have to identify every component on this bar until the end of the afternoon."

  
Chuck flips it and reads the ingredients out loud "Sugar, glucose, albumin... There's a lot of stuff here!" He moans.

  
Thomas smiles and ruffles his messy curls. "That's the point."

  
\--

  
Thomas doesn't know whether coincidence or not, but the fact is that he bumps into Minho almost everyday in the following two weeks.

  
Quick greetings at the corridor, some small talk while picking the mail, and a memorable moment by the end of the first week when Minho opened Thomas' door when the nurse was loaded with too many grocery bags.

  
By Tuesday, in the second week, Thomas receives a Facebook friendship request from Minho. On Wednesday he accidentally likes a photo posted on 2010.

  
It is a Halloween picture with both Minho and Newt in it. The dark haired man had a red flush of laughter in his face, and was wearing a Green Lantern costume. Newt had an arm across his shoulder and was leaning really close to him. The blond was dressed up as a steampunk lord with a top hat, goggles and a silk vest.

  
Thomas almost punches his own face when he realizes he'd just liked a picture posted 4 years ago. "You're a failure and a shame to the stalker community..." He groans to himself and Aris purrs in agreement.

  
Thankfully Minho doesn't seem to have noticed, and blessedly acts normally the next time they meet in the hallway.

  
"Hey Tomboy" He greets, as he locks his door and Thomas unlocks his own.

  
"Hey! Meeting the robotics nerds?" Thomas asks, pointing at the toolbox in Minho's hand.

  
"Have some respect, we're geeks not nerds!"

  
"You say potato, I say potato..." He winks and Minho punches his arm. He is about to say something else when Minho's phone rings.

  
Thomas doesn't recognize the music. It is a piano tune, a low base with lilting high notes. It sounds strangely sad despite the light tone of those high notes. Thomas likes it.

  
Minho picks his phone up and smiles at the screen. "Yo shank!" He greets, Thomas politely turns aside and focus on not listening to him. The nurse fiddles with his own phone for a while, until Minho hangs up.

  
"Nice music." Thomas says, and Minho frowns in confusion. "Your ringtone." He clarifies. "It's nice, I don't know it though."

  
"Yeah, no wonder you don't."  
"I'm hurt, man! You think I'm some musical illiterate?"

  
Minho shakes his head, smiling. "No, it's just that this music is not famous at all."

  
"It's beautiful."

  
"It's Newt's." Minho informs and Thomas eyebrows shot up in surprise." And talking about him, he asked if you're free this Saturday night."

  
"My shift at the hospital ends by 9, after this I'm free." Saying so with a neutral expression is a hard task but he manages so. "What are the plans?"

  
"Well, it begins at 8:30 and it's downtown so you're gonna miss the first part, but I'm sure he'd apreciate having you there."

  
"Ok, cool but, what is he inviting me to?"

  
Minho rolls his eyes. "Just trust me, okay?" He says, snatching Thomas' phone and adding his own number to the contacts.

  
"How did you know the code to unlock it?!" Thomas asks, appaled. Minho shrugs, sending a text message to himself in order to save Thomas' number as well.

  
"I just saw it. You turned your back to me while I was talking to Newt..."

  
"Wow, that's not creepy at all!" Thomas says and Minho once again punches him in the arm.

  
"I gotta go, Tomboy. See you on Saturday!" He turns on his heels and leave. Thomas waves a little and enters his place.

  
Minho's ringtone doesn't leave his mind. He keeps whistling it as he feeds the cats and does the laundry. And when he showers he begins to create lyrics to the tune. He thinks of what Minho said it's Newt's.

  
He really wants to google Newt, but all he knows for sure about the guy is that his hair has the most beautiful shade of blond ever and that despite the slight overbite, his smile could outshine the sun. Ah, and that he doesn't have a Facebook profile.

Thomas knows it because maybe he have looked at all of Minho's 413 friends searching for him... Maybe.

  
Saturday night comes and his shift seems endless. It doesn't help at all that the doctor looking after his ward that night is that despicable ratman Dr. Jansen. He'd give an arm to have anyone else there, even Dr. Paige, seriously.

  
But eventually the clock shows some mercy and Winston greets him as the other nurse changes into his scrubs.

  
Thomas brushes his teeth thoroughly and makes sure his hair doesn't look like it had been tucked into a safety cap for almost 10 hours.

He takes a taxi to the address Minho sent him and arrives there a little before 10. When he is only a few blocks away he texts Minho, who says he'll wait for him in front of the place.

  
The taxi pulls over in front of a small but elegant building. Minho is waiting there.

  
"You're underdressed, Tomboy!" He says in lieu of greeting.

  
"You never told me to dress up." Thomas replies, eyeing with interest the sharply pressed shirt hugging Minho's broad chest.

  
Minho tsks and pulls the lapels of Thomas' shirt to straighten it. "He won't mind, anyway. Lets go."

  
He then grabs Thomas' arm and pulls him into what now Thomas' realizes is a concert hall.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins right after chapter 6, and follows Minho for the two weeks portraied in Thomas' last chapter :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the best readers I could ask for!  
> If this is now a planned fic with actual plot and character development, it's all thanks to you. I hope to deliver all you deserve.

Minho almost chokes when he realizes, a second too late, that the handful of candies he just tossed into his mouth is a nasty mix of Skittles and M&Ms.

"I regret so much showing you that 9GAG post right now..." He murmurs, face sour.

"Too late..." Replies Newt, scooping a handful of Skittles straight from the bag and shoving it into his mouth. The blond crosses the room to turn the Nintendo Wii on.

Minho watches him with the corner of his eyes, half his attention focused on picking the chewy candies and the chocolate apart. "How do you feel?" He asks when Newt sprawls down in the armchair beside the couch.

"I'm fine." Newt answers, playing with the bag of candies. They stay in silence for a moment, the cheery music from the video game the only sound in the room.

"How do you feel about him?" Minho tries again. Newt pointedly stares at the tv screen.

"What do you want me to say?" He sounds defeated. "He is nice, and considerated, smart, and handsome... But there is no point in dwelling on it, nothing will happen." He shrugs.

"You shouldn't be so pessimist." Says Minho, defiantly shoving another handful of asorted candies into his mouth.

Newt frowns. "I'm not!" He protests, hand instintively clutching his thigh. "It is one of those silly crushes, it'll go away in no time."

Minho rises his eyebrow, a tense silence fills the space between them. It stretches for almost a full minute before Newt breaks it. "I like what we have..." He says in a small voice. Minho's expression softens.

"So do I." Ha says with a smile. "But I didn't ask about us, I asked about you."

A deep flush blooms across Newt's face and down his chest. He avoids Minho's eyes. "I don't want to talk about it now."

"Will you talk about it later?" Minho's voice is gentle despite the pressure of his words. Newt licks his lips pensively and nods slowly. Minho smiles and picks a wiimote. "Ready for Rainbow Road?" Newt screws his face.

"Moomoo Meadows, man, please..."

 

\----

 

To both Newt and Thomas' credit, neither asks about the other in the following week.

He meets Thomas almost every day, in the corridor and entry halls and not even once he asks about Newt. Newt sends him the usual 612 daily text messages and on Thursday they spend almost one hour talking on the phone. By Tuesday on the second week Newt invites him to dinner.

They go to a pancake place Gally had told them about. It is small and homey, the booths so comfortable Minho feels like falling asleep right there. After the meal Minho excuses himself to the restroom and when he comes back he finds Newt using his phone.

"Why don't you use your own phone?" He asks, sliding back into the booth.

"I'm on Facebook."

" _My_ Facebook." Minho stresses the word. Newt sighs and slides the phone back across the table top.

"Yes, your Facebook, the one that belongs to you. The one I've been consistently using for almost 10 months."

"Is it really necessary? All this aggressivity in your little British heart?" Newt rolls his eyes and smiles. They talk a little longer but soon leave.

Minho walks home since its not too late yet. The weather is fine, warm but with a pleasant breeze. His phone buzzes in his pocket. He takes it mildly interested. It is a Facebook notification. _Thomas Green has accepted your friendship request._ He grins and rolls his eyes in amusement.

 

\---

 

Minho kisses Newt's forehead by 8:54 and runs to his seat by Alby and Gally.

As always, the concert begins at 9 on spot. Newt enters the main stage, takes a bow and sits by the sleek black piano. The lights over the audience go off and a single spot shines over him. He begins to play.

Minho recognizes the melody, it is the first classic piece he's ever heard. It is also the first thing Newt played for him, back when they were only 11 years old. The technique has improved but the look on Newt's face is the same: peaceful but focused, his mouth set in a firm line and eyes shifting between sharp gazes and fluttering blinks. It is beautiful.

The first piece blends into the second, this one Minho doesn't recognize but enjoys all the same. Newt's back is straight but not sitff, he sways lightly to reach the further keys, his hands an elegant blur over black and white.

The last piece of the first part is almost over when Thomas messages him. He leans over to Alby and says he'll be back to the second part, and silently leaves the concert room. It's easy to find Thomas, as the man leaps out of a taxi and waves at him.

"You're underdressed, Tomboy!" He complains, taking in Thomas' flat hair and crinckled shirt. He tries to straighten the collar a bit but quickly leave it be.

"You never told me to dress up." Replies Thomas, with a small pout and a lingering glance at Minho's torso that doesn't go unnoticed. _Focus, Minho!_ He berates himself. He thinks of how happy Newt looked when he told him Thomas was coming to the concert.

"He won't mind, anyway. Lets go." He grabs Thomas' wrist and guides him down the hallway and into the concert room. The atendees are silently returning to their places after the short intermission. They sit quietly, Gally and Alby only politely noding at them, when the lights go off again and once more Newt sits at the piano stool.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows Newt's POV on the two weeks between the first meeting with Thomas and the concert.
> 
> I want to clarify that I unfortunately have no idea how a concert works and how to write music and music playing so I apologise if it is incredibly wrong and or innacurate OTL

Not asking about Thomas is impossibly hard but, if he wants to mantain some dignity in front of Minho, that's what he must do. He doesn't talk about Thomas and so does Minho. Except for a quick reference to a heavily burdened neighbour by Wednesday, that mean spirited asshole of a friend doesn't say a word about him at all. On the following week, by Tuesday, he texts Minho:

_"lets go to the pancake place gally doesn't shut up about"_

_"sure"_

_"@ 8, meet me there"_

_"k bb"_

\---

He can barely contain his excitement as he waits for Minho. His heart races but he feels light and bubbly, its a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. He keeps looking at the picture in his phone, a smile growing on his face. Absentmindedly, he twirls a strand of golden hair between his fingers and smiles even wider when he notices how thick and strong it feels.

A gentle hand pulls his own away from his hair. "You'll get a bald spot." Minho says humorously, but the stare they share has an underlying tone of sadness. The moment stretches a little longer but finally Minho sits in front of him and the tense atmosphere breaks. "So, are we celebrating something?"

Newt cracks a wide smile. "Harriet called me this morning. She said we've sold almost 80% of the tickets!" He turns his phone and shows the picture the theatre manager had sent him. It shows the official concert hall web page and the ticket sales with a big golden star indicating most of the places were sold.

Minho's eyes crinkle with his smile. He takes the phone to take a better look at the picture. "This is great Newt! And it's still Tuesday, you can still sell out!"

Newt smiles sheepishly. "I've never sold out Min, you know that."

Minho shrugs. "Come back shows always sell best."

"This is not a come back show..." Newt takes the phone back and studies the photo for a second. "I wouldn't mind selling out. There's only one ticket I'd like to give to..." He trails off, suddenly aware of his own words.

Minho's knowing smile is a perfect balance between gentle and wicked. "I'll talk to him, ok?"

Newt is grateful that this is the only thing his friend says in this regard. Soon a waitress comes to take their orders and they begin to drink and eat and talk about everything else. The night passes pleasantly. The food is great and they even send a snapchat to Gally to brag about their dinner. Much to their disappointment the other british doesn't respond.

They eat more than they should and Newt feels heavy and sleepy when Minho excuses himself and leave to the bathroom. The blond lazily pokes at the chocolate syrup pooling on his plate, his mind wandering when it is brought back by a buzzing sound.

He lifts his eyes to see Minho's phone alight with a Facebook notification. It is a new picture Alby posted and tagged Minho. Newt snorts at it, it shows Gally covered in flour and some disastrous pancakes in a plate. Newt likes the picture and scrolls down Minho's timeline. A few photos, some funny status and a major argument over the announced cast for the new Marvel movies roll in front of his eyes. He is about to put the phone down when an idea hits him.

He stretches his neck a bit to check if Minho is coming back already and quickly takes a decision. He taps the search tool and enter the name that's been pleaguing him for days. _Thomas Green_.

His heart flutter when he sees the profile picture. Thomas smiling, his cheeks dimpled and small crinkles at the corner of his eyes. It looks like he is at the beach, a purple and golden sunset and pale sand dunes at the background. And, is that a tattoo?

Yes, it is. Definetely there is a tattoo peeking under the low neck of his shirt. Newt can't tell what it is but the orange and red look amazing against the tanned skin. The tattoo seem to spread from the chest up to the collarbones and Newt wants to touch it. He'd never touched tattooed skin and he can't help but wish to caress and kiss it and thoroughly study the difference between the colored design and the rest of Thomas' body.

He barely has time to control the growing heat coloring his cheeks before Minho comes back.

They talk for a little longer and finally leave the restaurant. Minho's place is relatively close so he decides to go home by foot. Newt walks to the bus stop and waits for just a few minutes before boarding the first bus to his neighbourhood.

He keeps remembering Thomas' smile in his profile picture. The easy look of it, how it reaches his eyes and brightens them as well. His mind goes from the smile to the mysterious tattoo and he wonders what it is. The colors are beautiful but the shirt covered most of the design. As it is, its impossible for him to guess what is it.

Once again he wishes he knew Thomas better. If I knew him, I'd know it...

His hand lands over his thigh and he considers what he would get tattooed, if he ever got the nerve to do so. Its a difficult question and even in this purely hipothetical setting he finds it hard to chose. He thinks of all the things he likes and that somehow represents him: the Union Jack to his British origins, his favorite heroes and characters. His piano...

All those things are important and meaningful to him, but none to the point of being tattooed onto his skin. He considers celebrating the new stage of his life, but butterflies and lotus flowers, the traditional overcoming of obstacles tattoos, don't appeal to him at all.

He goes to sleep thinking about it.

That night he dreams he is swimming in a sea of colors. Red, orange and pink swirling together, creating patterns and designs. The waves crash on white shores and from the foam emerges a man. He looks like Minho some times, and on others he looks like Thomas or even Newt himself. This man in his dream has every color on his skin and his smile is pure white.

 

\----

 

His gaze shift from the untied tie hanging on his neck to the clock. Its almost time, his palms are sweating, his heart fluttering and he keep swallowing dry. Its been so long since the last time he performed live... A knock on his door makes him stand. "Come in..." He says with a smile - he already knows who is it.

Minho's head pokes from the door and he smiles. "You ready?" Newt nods and points to the tie which is still undone. Minho rolls his eyes and enters the room. He deftly knots the tie and takes Newt's hands in his own. "You'll do great, as always. I'm proud of you and I know Thomas will love it."

"Is he here?" Newt asks before he can control himself.

Minho shakes his head lightly. "He'll come after the intermission. His shift ends by 9, he'll be here for the second part." Newt sucks his bottom lip pensively.

"Thank you Min, it'll be nice to have him here, but I'm mostly happy to have you here."

"I know." They look at the clock at the same time. Minho tenderly kisses his forehead and leaves. Newt takes a few more breaths and checks his reflection one last time. He puts his jacket on, buttons it and finally leaves for the stage.

The lights over the audience are still on when he steps onto the stage. He waits a moment and walks to the piano under the main spotlight. He bows and sits at the stool. The big spot light over him turns on, and the rest of the concert hall falls into semi darkness. He licks his lips an dbegins to play.

Now, the music comes easily to him, flowing through his mind and body. In that moment all the hours rehearsing and studing, all the effort he put into his music pay off. There isn't a single sound on the big room except form his music, not even a breath or murmur. There are dozens of people on the room and all they hear is him, it is a powerful feeling.

He sways lightly, hands drifting over the keyboard to touch only the right keys, at the right times. He keeps playing, one song turning into another until it's time for the intermission. Taking a bow, he retreats to the backstage. He replays most of the performance in his mind and spots a few quick mistakes and takes notes on his phone. He goes to the restroom, drinks coffee and eats a few crackers to refill his stomach.

The fifteen minutes pass by quickly. He washes his face and goes back to the stage. Before the lights over the audience go off he looks for his friends among the attendees. His mouth go dry. It's far but he can clearly see it, Minho guiding Thomas through the crowd. They sit side by side and he thinks its a timid smile on Thomas' face when he sits there.

A smile shows on his own face as he sits and places his hand over the keyboard and begins to play the last piece in his concert.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, sorry it took so long for a new chapter but life really got in the way these last weeks... My baby brother got sick, I was fired (and un-fired one day later), and my computer decided to quit me just to name a few...  
> Secondly, this is way shorter than intented but I felt like posting it if only to put myself in motion again!  
> Last, but not least, thank you guys for all the lovely support. I hope you're still interested in this small story I decided to tell :)

Thomas is completely enthralled. He'd never attended to a live performance and, even if it isn't his favorite genre, it is a powerful experience nonetheless. The entire concert hall is silent except for the piano. It is not the biggest concert room, but Thomas thinks there are at least 300 people there and he finds it truly impressive.

Their seats are on the first balcony, a bit far from the stage but they are right in front of it so he can still see Newt's face clearly. Thomas recognizes the music he's playing as the one Minho uses as ringtone.

He knows nothing about song writing but he can read Newt's face as he plays it, and from his expression, Thomas sees this is a very special song. There are many shifts and small changes on his expression. His eyebrows lift and furrow as he plays, and so does his lips which close tightly before hanging slightly opened. Every once in a while his tongue pokes between parted lips and Thomas dies a bit because a tiny flash of a tongue shouldn't be so relevant to him.

A flurry of movement beside him catch his attention and, peeling his eyes from Newt for a moment, he sees Minho wiping his face on the cuff of his shirt. Tears well silently on his dark eyes and run down his cheeks. Thomas doesn't know how to react. He chances a glance at the two other men by Minho's side and see they are moved too, but not nearly as much as his neighbour.

Thomas focuses back on Newt. Slowly, he closes his eyes and allows the music to wash over him. He still don't know the reasons behind that piece, but it touches him somehow. Maybe its just the knowledge that its important and meaningful to both Newt and Minho.

_If I knew them, I'd know..._

His eyes are still closed when the last notes vibrate in the air. He feels Minho taking a deep, shrudering breath, and slumping a bit by his side. A moment of silence.

Applause.

He looks around and sees all the audience standing up and applauding with enthusiasm. Minho jolts up and claps his hands thunderously, the sound echoing on Thomas' ears.

Finally Thomas catches up and stands too. He applauds generously, his palms pricking with the force of his claps. Newt, still sitting at the piano, takes a moment to breath and steady himself before standing up. When he does so, the roar of applause grows even more. Even a few whistles echo through the high ceiling. It lasts for almost a whole minute.

Newt bows deeply and as he straightens up again, Thomas sees his face is pink and there is a sheen of sweat on his temples and neck. But there are also thin wet lines crossing his cheeks and even from the distance it's easy to tell his eyes are red. Thomas' heart clenches. What does it mean? What should he do? Should he do anything at all?

He is dwelling on those thoughts when Minho brushes past him, squeezing between their seats and the balcony. The dark haired man quickly makes his way down to the floor level and vanishes into a small door by the side of the stage. Thomas looks around, a bit lost as what to do now that his guide (friend?) was gone. A hand lands lightly on his shoulder.

"Minho, that slinthead didn't introduced us" Thomas turns around and is greeted by a warm smile and a sour frown. "Name's Alby, we're Minho and Newt's friends."

"Hi, I'm Thomas" he replies, extending his hand and shaking Alby's.

"We know who you are" the other man, the frowny blond, says.

"Please Gally, can't you at least feign civility?" Alby asks tiredly. Gally manages to frown even deeper.

"Not my fault Minho and Newt don't shut their traps about this guy..."

"Oh, you _that_ jealous, Gally?" Thomas mocks, decided not to like that guy - it would be a difficult to have it any other way.

Alby actually smirks at it and Gally looks ready to leap over his friend to strangle Thomas right there in the middle of the theatre. Thomas doesn't have the faintest doubt that it is Alby's authoritative stare (and his impressive bulk) that keeps Gally from doing so. The tension is broken by a buzzing sound.

"They're leaving the backstage," says Alby, reading the message Minho had just sent him. "We should go meet them in the entry hall."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be Newtmas next chapter! :D


End file.
